


a teaspoon of honey

by demonglass



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this on a whim, M/M, Seo Changbin is Whipped, based on american school years and grades bc it was easier, but i think its kinda cute so it can stay, but its ok bc binnie is too, changbin is a uni freshman and jisung is a hs senior, jisung is bad at confessions, neways enjoy!, not a character piece rlly but like?? my thoughts about falling in love i guess??, rated t for cursing, the h in han stands for honey ghjk, which i regret a bit ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonglass/pseuds/demonglass
Summary: Changbin's life, like his herbal tea, is sweeter with a drop of honey mixed in. For his tea, it's an easy fix. For his life? Well, that's where Jisung comes in.





	a teaspoon of honey

Changbin’s mornings are like his herbal teas. Sometimes they’re just what he needs: calm and soothing, easing an ache he has yet to place, a source of gentle heat to savor in the cool half-light of this persistent winter. Sometimes, though, they’re harsh, over-steeped, luke-warm and bitter, biting his throat, something he can only choke down with a grimace. He’s figured out the secret behind his tea’s occasional sourness (not quite enough honey), and unfortunately he has a sneaking suspicion he knows what makes some mornings sting more than usual too, though he’s not entirely sure there’s anything he can do about it.

Today is a mix of both; his tea is sweet and perfectly warm, but the morning is nippy and dreadfully bland. The light blue walls of his apartment appear gray in all the corners where the sun’s weak light doesn’t quite reach, and the quiet whir of the fan blowing on his drying clothes sounds somehow deafening in the utter silence of the room. Changbin hates when it’s this quiet, when there’s no babbling voice to counter the hush that drapes itself over the apartment when Changbin is its only occupant. He could play music through the speaker currently hiding somewhere in his apartment, but it’s just not the same as steady conversation, and none of the slow, mopey songs he’s in the mood for would do anything to perk him up.  

_ “Just open a window, listen to the traffic or whatever’s out there,”  _ Jisung always says, but Changbin never seems to be in the mood to freeze his ass off in the early March weather. He’s already gotten sick this year and isn’t eager to repeat the experience. So he stands in silence at the kitchen counter, eyeing the brown spots on his banana apprehensively, eating it slowly, halfheartedly. 

There’s no incredible story for how Changbin met Jisung; Chan introduced them to each other on a random Thursday afternoon in November two years ago in a bagel shop after school. Changbin had been doing his homework in the corner, studious as ever, and happily cutting into his cinnamon sugar bagel when Chan had showed up (seven minutes late) with a kid Changbin vaguely recognized from the hallways at school in tow, sat down across from Changbin, and said  _ “Hey, this is Jisung, he’s a year below you.”  _ That was pretty much it. There’s no incredible story about how Changbin finally realized his feelings for Jisung either; they’d been at a small end of summer party at Chan’s place last year, Changbin had looked across the room at the faces of his closest friends, and when he got to Jisung he realized there was a light fluttery feeling in his chest that wasn’t there when he looked at any of the others. From there it had been six months of Changbin angsting alone in his apartment at one in the morning and whining to Hyunjin about it all on the grounds of  _ “I listened to you rant about Minho always one-upping you on your dance team until the day he graduated, I  _ earned  _ this.”  _

And now here he is: a college freshman living alone off campus because after the horror stories he’d heard from Woojin and Chan about their first school assigned roommates, he’d decided to save himself a year of pain and start out on his own. If Hyunjin had picked a university nearby maybe they could have roomed together, but in an utterly (not) shocking turn of events, Hyunjin had ended up at the same school as Minho and had happily moved in with him instead, almost ten years of friendship with Changbin be damned. So yes, he lives alone, except for the weekends when Jisung catches a bus from their hometown and shows up at his door with his school bag and an overnight bag and spends two days filling Changbin’s small apartment with laughter and light, and reminding Changbin how stupidly in love he is.

Jisung has a way of making even hours laying sprawled across the floor doing homework somehow bearable, sometimes even enjoyable. That’s usually when he complains about how hard senior year is and Changbin rolls his eyes because he remembers his senior year of high school and it’s nothing compared to his freshman year in college. And then Jisung throws a pen at his face, misses, and pouts until Changbin breaks down and helps him with half the work because it’s for all the same classes he took himself the year before and he still remembers most of the material. 

It’s the hours they aren’t stuck writing essays and reports and pulling their hair out over math they’ll absolutely never use later in life that Changbin holds tight to, though; the hours spent just talking about everything they’ve missed in their time spent apart, and anything else on their minds; the hours spend dancing carelessly to every pop song Jisung has on his phone and badly karaoking to all of Changbin’s own top picks; the hours spent cooking dinners and baking desserts and trying not to set any more shirt sleeves on fire in the process; the sluggish hours from midnight to three a.m. when Changbin feels like he’s floating on clouds just being near Jisung, close enough to touch but never touching more than a fleeting brush; the slow mornings hours when they wake up sprawled across Changbin’s bed, heavy limbs bathed in sunlight dappled through pink curtains, not yet ready to move any more than it takes to grab their phones from the dresser to the left of the headboard. 

Changbin had hoped, weakly, at the beginning of the school year, that the distance would help him get over his newly realized feelings, but by December it had been clear that wouldn’t be the case. By now he’s almost used to it though, because while there are still times that he looks at Jisung and it nearly knocks him off his feet how badly he wants to hold Jisung’s hand, or wrap up in his arms, or kiss both his cheeks and then his lips, for the most part he still loves Jisung just the same as he did before. The leap from loving him to being in love with wasn’t quite as dramatic as he’d thought it would be. In fact, it had been all too easy with Jisung; so easy that he suspects he’d started falling long before he was even aware of it. 

But all of this is a problem for Friday Changbin, because right now, Wednesday Changbin has fifteen minutes to get to class and the walk there is nineteen minutes on a good day. He abandons his empty mug and banana peel in the kitchen, grabs his things from The Things Chair, and slides his shoes on. He’s going to need to run.

 

By Friday, Changbin is exactly the same as he’d been on Wednesday, except now he’s home for the weekend and doesn’t need to run to any more classes for two whole days, and has finished his book and is halfway through analysing it for his pickiest professor (and halfway to tears but that’s a given). However, all his homework problems fall away when he hears three loud knocks at his door, and he stands quickly, moves to answer the door. When he sees Jisung on the other side, looking far more serious than he should, his Jisung problem jumps back to its spot at the forefront of his mind. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks right away, stepping back to let Jisung in and watching him with worry.

Jisung takes a breath and strides into the room, but doesn’t drop his bags like he usually does. Changbin closes the door hesitantly. Jisung takes another breath. “Okay,” he starts, looking like he’s forcing himself to meet Changbin’s eyes, “I was thinking on the bus on the way over here, and like five thousand other times too but especially this time, and I figure I may as well just say my piece now and get it over with so I can finally think about something else for once. So I guess . . . uh, fuck this was easier in my head.” Jisung shakes his head and takes another breath and steels himself like he’s preparing to head off to war. “Changbin, I like you. Like you, like you.”

Changbin stares at him, blinking as if this Jisung could be a figment of his imagination and might vanish after he closes his eyes. But no, he’s still right there when his eyes open again.

“I guess I was waiting to see if you would say anything or to see if there would be some golden moment to confess, but Felix says you’re too dense to say anything and I have to say I think he’s right about that, and I realized there was never going to be a perfect opportunity and it was driving me mad waiting for one. So . . . yeah, that’s it. I like you.”

Changbin opens his mouth, then closes it again. None of the scenarios he’d imagined had gone quite like this and he’s not sure what the right thing to say is. There’s no time to deliberate though, because the last thing he wants is for Jisung to think that his feelings aren’t entirely reciprocated, so he ends up blurting a soft “Oh my God?” and then throwing his arms around Jisung, two backpacks and all, in the most amazingly awkward hug of his life. “I like you too,” he mumbles into Jisung’s shoulder. Then he pulls away and Jisung looks like the fucking sun as a smile splits across his face and he finally drops his bags on the floor at his feet.

“Really?” He says, eyes wide and sparkling.

“Really,” Changbin says, feeling like an immense weight has been lifted off his chest. “So much. For ages now.”

If it’s possible, Jisung’s smile grows even wider. “That’s fucking fantastic man.”

Then they’re both doubled over laughing. It might be the worst confession ever, but Changbin feels like he’s on top of the world. When their laughter dies down and Jisung stops looking him in the eye and starts focusing instead on his lips, Changbin swears he can feel his soul ascend to a higher plane of existence. And if by Saturday he’s forgotten all about the analysis he’s supposed to be finishing, well, that’s a problem for Sunday Changbin. And that’s more than fine with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> i literally started this bc i had a cup of grotty bitter tea while deep in my stray kids love hours i'm so sorry i'm not even sure what this was but it got sappy and stupid and i finished it at like 1am but i hope you enjoyed it dghjk
> 
> (also for clarification woojin is three grades above changbin, chan is two grades above him, minho is one grade above, hyunjin is in the same grade as him, and all of 00 line + jeongin are the grade below them & sorry i couldn't mention all the members i love them all but i was tiredt)


End file.
